


Take the Drink

by PersephoneParkinson



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, background harry/luna i guess, harry potter being happy and living his life is my actual kink idk man, hermione just wants an historically accurate coustume, i know im posting halloween drabbles three week to chrismas but w h a t e v e r, its never actually stated what harry is lmao, pansy is unicorn, rons a plumber despite not knowing what a plumber actually is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 22:32:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8771971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PersephoneParkinson/pseuds/PersephoneParkinson
Summary: Its Halloween Harry Potter is 19 and wants to live his life. He figures Pansy can help with that.





	

“Why are you having a Halloween party again?”

 

“My therapist said I need to recapture my youth.” Harry said, lining up bottles of liquor on the counter.

 

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “I hardly call post-coital talk with Luna a therapy session. I know she works at St. Mungos now but honestly Harry maybe you should see an actual therapist-”

 

“I don't want anyone else in my head. Ever.”

 

She held up her hands in mock defeat, knowing his I-don't-want-to-discuss-this tone.

 

“Is Ron coming? Ron is coming right? Even if you're here?” He asked for the third time since Hermione arrived at Grimmauld place.

 

“Yes, Ron is coming. I gave him the address of the costume shop in London. He'll get here eventually.”

 

“My life would be a lot simpler if you two were still together.” Harry grumbled.

 

“My life would also be a lot simpler if Ron and I were still together.” She said, nearly wistful for the easygoing nature of her ex. Harry recognized almost sad pitch of her voice and decided to change the subject.

 

“Who are you supposed to be, again?” He questioned, although for fully aware, considering the several history lessons he got.

 

“For the last time time, I'm Joan of Arc!” Hermione cried.

 

He was unsure how anyone was going to get a 14th century witch from her long sleeved white gauzy dress and the very real sword that hung at her hip but Harry figured that wasn't his problem.  

 

That was the brilliance of being 19, nothing was his problem anymore. No more dark lords to fight, no more death eaters to capture, no more relatives to cook and clean for, no more _anything._ The weight of the world was no longer on Harry James Potter’s shoulders and he just wanted to have _fun._ Which is why he invited everyone he knew to this party.

 

At least, he thought this was a party. He didn't have much experience with them outside of the Gryffindor common room. So he was assuming that it would be a lot like that except there would be a lot more firewhiskey.

 

Ron didn't show until the majority of people were packed in Grimmauld place. Hermione had assisted in making electricity work so there was a radio station that was playing muggle music, people were dancing and Harry was already two drinks in and they edges of everything was blurrying together in the most pleasant of ways. Was that Dean and Seamus making out on his couch? Yes. Did he care? Absolutely not.

 

“Ron! -What are you supposed to be?”

 

        His redhead friend blushed and held up a plunger. “I'm gonna be very honest, Harry. I'm not exactly sure. The shop was closing when I got there so I just asked the shop girl to just hand me the first thing she had.” His costume wasn't really a costume. More of a vinyl printed shirt that featured a tool belt filled with wrenches.

 

“The shop girl was very nice though and very pretty. She actually gave me her felly-phone number. That's good right? Do you think Mione will help put one in my flat,  - Hey, is that Pansy Parkinson?”

 

Harry looked over to where Ron was very un-tactfully pointing with his fake plunger and sure enough there was Pansy Parkinson was in the corner dancing with Padma Patil to some song asking repeatedly about who let the dogs out.

 

She wore a skin-tight white dress, iridescent with a pearl shimmer. It took Harry a few blinks before recognizing the headband that had a white horn attached. A unicorn, the girl that offered him up to Voldemort like a pig for slaughter dressed up as a _unicorn._

 

He would have laughed, if his eyes weren't currently glued to the top of her white fishnet covered thighs. Had Pansy always been this short? Even in her matching white heels she probably would just come up to his chest.

 

Ron shoved him. “Watch it mate. I don't wanna have to defend my sister's honor and all.”  Harry snorted.

 

“Please don't like Ginny hear you say that. Also, I'm not dating your sister anymore.”

 

“What do you mean? You guys have that whole Luna-situation.”

 

“There is no situation Ron. She sleeps with Luna on a regular basis, I sleep with with Luna occasionally. We are currently not sleeping with each other.”

 

Rons face was still twisted with confusion but then shrugged. “I'm not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth, mate. My best friend and my favorite sibling are no longer bumping uglies. This is a day to celebrate!” He summoned to a glass from the table.

 

“Is that a new wand?” Harry asked.

 

“Er, yes. I kinda damaged mine in another one of George's experiments. Working for my brother is going to kill either me or my Gringotts account. Here's to you and my sister not having sex!” He said and then swallowed his drink.

 

Harry didn't feel like informing him that it had been months since their very amicable break-up and instead went to go to the kitchen, where he found Hermione who had not left her post of eating some crackers that she demanded he have. He told her that she was more than welcome to skip the party and keep to her room all night but she declined.

 

“Hello Potter, Granger.” Harry turned and there was Parkinson, pink-cheeked and smiling. Which almost looked odd on her face considering how many memories of her included scowling.

 

“Sorry about crashing your party. I know I wasn't invited  but Theodore didn't want to come alone so-”

 

“Theo is here?” Hermione asked, suddenly standing straight and brushing her face free of any fallen crumbs and quickly walked away. “Excuse me Harry. Lovely to see you again, Parkinson.”

 

Harry looked to Pansy. “Do you know what whats going on there?” She shrugged and lifted herself to sit to on the counter. He watched her short dress as it rode even higher on her thighs and must of lingered a second longer than he meant to because when he looked back up she was watching him while he watched her and the knowing smirk on her face was make chest burn in a way that had nothing to do with alcohol.

 

“Theo has a crush I think. He hasn't been able to shut up about her since I've been back.”

 

He thinks of the way Hermione rushed out of here with just the sound of the guys names. “The feeling must be must mutual.” He moved then, closer to Pansy. Brushing against her side to reach for the firewhiskey beside her.

 

“Where have you been?”

 

“America. My father sent me away after the war.”

 

The air lulled with silence, but not for long.

 

“I guess I should apologize for you know.” She waved her hand flippantly. Harry did know, but he wanted more.

 

“Actually I don't know. Care to explain more?”

 

“The whole _thing,_ being a blood supremacist bitch, calling you names, trying to hand you over to the Dark Lord.”

 

And then Harry did laugh because Pansy Parkinson was right. It was just _a thing_. It happened. It's over. Harry survived and was living and he hoped that if he played his cards right he could do some of that living with Pansy's white pumps locked at his lower back.

 

“I heard you're an Auror, Potter.”

 

“I used to be. Are you interested in joining the force?”

 

She smiles and laughs, the motion causes her black hair to shift across the tops of her breasts. “No, but I think I have some questions about the restraint charms you use?” Her voice was light, innocent sounding and just as fake as the costume she wore.

 

Harry looks up, startled but his blood is singing and pumping through his veins in a delicious decadent way.

 

“I think I could help with that. Would you be needing a private lesson?”

 

She bite her very pink lip and nodded. “As soon as you can manage.”

 

“Parkinson, I think I free up some time right now. But first..The least you can do for crashing my party is drink with me.” Pouring them both a shot and handed one to her with raised eyebrows.

 

A challenge, she thinks and Pansy isn't wrong. Harry _is_ challenging her. He wants to to know how much of that scared girl is left inside, wants to know if she wants him as much as he wants to run his tongue across the base of throat and all the other places her white dress is keeping hidden in plain sight.

 

She takes the drink.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by the Facebook group Wordsmiths & Betas Friday drabble challenge: Harry Potter, Pansy Parkinson, a new wand, a plunger, and a shot of firewhiskey.


End file.
